My blogging friend Kelly at Compass and Camera posted photos a week or so ago that showed stained glass windows and reminded me of Gaudi’s masterpiece cathedral, Sagrada Familia. The soaring faith required to imagine and build this beautiful sanctuary in Barcelona is a reminder that faith and hope together have tremendous power, enough to build a soaring cathedral— and enough to get through the darkest night, which is a comforting thought given the troubling times we have experienced the past few years and are especially experiencing now. (These photos were taken on a visit that Peggy and I made to the Cathedral in 2015.)
The front of Sagrada Familia reflects Antoni Gaudi’s love of nature and is sometimes described as looking like a melting cake. My thoughts are more like melting ice cream cake. The church is a work in progress. The towers are the first of 14.
Barcelona arrived in the Twentieth Century with its own brand of Art Nouveau, Modernisme. Combining whimsical and practical with a healthy dollop of nature, Barcelona’s Catalan artists and architects did a makeover of their city. Antoni Gaudi (1852-1926), the best known among the Modernistas, added strong religious belief to his work and became the architect of Sagrada Familia, the Church of the Holy Family.
Started in 1883, the church continues to be a work in progress today. Like the great cathedrals of the Gothic and Renaissance periods, it is a work of generations, and like the great cathedrals of Europe, is a masterpiece of art and architecture. Peggy, our traveling companions, and I walked inside and could only stare in awe at the beauty. I’ve selected the photos for this blog to provide a sense of why.
Just walking around the church is inspiring. This sculpture found outside is one of many included in Joseph Marin Subirach’s story of Christ’s death. I found the modern sculptures both powerful and moving. You can feel the grief here.To get a true feeling for Sagrada Familia, you have to go inside, however. The columns in the church range from 36 to 72 feet tall. The ceiling vault reaches a height of 200 feet. The final tower, which will rest on the beams and ceiling, will soar 560 feet into the air, making it the tallest church steeple in the world.Another view looking up. I had a sense of a white bird soaring over and looking down.This picture provide a sense of the soaring columns. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)Stained glass windows adorn the great cathedrals of Europe and Sagrada Familia has its share of beauties as this photo and the following three show.Photo by Peggy Mekemson.Photo by Peggy Mekemson.Photo by Peggy Mekemson.Every inch of the cathedral shows close attention to detail and creativity, like this wall.I really like this photo by Peggy that combines the pipes of an organ with the stained glass windows. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)The crucifix hanging above the altar serves as a symbol that brings Christians together from throughout the world, but the Cathedral speaks to me of more than religious faith. It speaks to a faith in humanity that goes beyond religious creed, race, nationality, sex, or any of the other differences that tear us apart and are exploited by self-serving, unscrupulous demagogues to a belief/hope that working together we can build— have to build— a better world for our children, grandchildren, and future generations. And for ourselves. Let’s make the world great.I’ll close today with a final photo of Sagrada Familia.
Every couple of years I update Bone’s travel history because he continues to wander the world. This time, I’ve added his 750 mile trek down the Pacific Crest Trail. As you read this post, he is preparing for another 7,000 mile journey in Quivera the RV to some of the remote corners of the contiguous United States in honor of Peggy’s 70th Birthday. He’ll be wearing his face mask and reporting along the way!
Bone has travelled twice to the base of Mt. Everest. Twice.
Sometime in the 1900s Bone started his life as part of a horse wandering through the Sierra Nevada Mountains. The horse was allegedly eaten by a bear. Bone ended up in a high mountain meadow practicing Zen and being nibbled on by a miscreant rodent.
1977: He was ‘discovered’ by two lost backpackers (Curt Mekemson and Tom Lovering) on the Tahoe Yosemite Trail south of Lake Tahoe and launched his career of wandering the world.
Normally, Bone likes to hang out in Curt and Peggy’ library in Virginia. His favorite section is travel.
He also has a fondness for George, the Bush Devil, who is on the cover of Curt’s book, “The Bush Devil Ate Sam.” Here, the two of them share a laugh.
1980-81: Bone commenced his first World Tour with Tom. He visited Asia including Japan, Hong Kong, Bombay, Delhi and Katmandu where he trekked to the base of Mt. Everest. He then wandered on to spend spring and summer in Europe stopping off in Greece, Spain, Portugal, France, Italy, Austria, Liechtenstein, Luxembourg, Germany, Belgium, England and Ireland. Getting cold, Bone headed south and hitched a ride in the back of a truck through Algeria, Niger, Chad, Nigeria, Cameroon, Central African Republic, Zaire, Sudan, Kenya (where he crossed the Equator), Tanzania, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Botswana and South Africa. He signed on with Tom as crew of a sailboat in Cape Town and headed north to Mallorca, stopping off on the islands of St. Helena, Ascension, Cape Verde and Madeira. Back in Europe he explored his possible Viking roots in Sweden, Norway and Finland.
1983-86: Bone assumed Cheechako status and moved to Alaska with Curt where he was stalked by a grizzly bear on the Kenai Peninsula, explored Prince William Sound by kayak, learned to winter camp in 30 degree below zero weather while listening to wolves howl, backpacked in the Brooks Range north of the Arctic Circle, and discussed the finer points of eating salmon with Great Brown Bears in Katmai National Park. He escaped briefly to the warmer climate of Hawaii and participated in the New Orleans Mardi Gras.
One look at this fellow and Bone decided that he wanted to be elsewhere.
The big guy was playing with a distant cousin of his.
1986: He backpacked the Western US for five months with Curt exploring the Grand Canyon, the Gila Wilderness of New Mexico, the Rockies, and the Wind River Mountains of Wyoming before returning to his beloved Sierras.
1989: Bone joined Curt on a six month 10,000-mile solo bike tour around North America visiting 18 states and 4 Canadian provinces. He ended his journey by meeting Peggy in Sacramento.
1990: The International Society of the BONE was formed at Senior Frogs in Mazatlan, Mexico, where Bone spent the afternoon being pickled in a pitcher of margaritas and being kissed by lovely senoritas.
1991-97: Various members of International Society accompanied Bone on numerous adventures. Highlights included a White House Press Conference with Bill Clinton, being blessed by the Pope in St. Peter’s Square, visiting with Michelangelo’s David, going deep-sea diving in the South Pacific and Caribbean, doing a Jane Austin tour of England, and exploring the Yucatan Peninsula. A group adopted him as a good luck charm and took him back to visit the base of Mt. Everest one year and to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro another.
Bone loves high places. Here he is on top of Mt. Kilimanjaro in East Africa. (He’s with MJ, fourth from right, standing.)
Bone went diving in the Pacific in 1997 with Jose and Barbara Kirchner, visiting a Japanese ship sunk during World War II and receiving his diving certificate.
1998-99: Bone embarked on 40,000-mile journey in the van, Xanadu, through the US, Canada and Mexico with Peggy and Curt, visiting over 30 National Parks, driving the Alaska and Baja Highways, checking out Smokey the Bear’s and Calamity Jane’s graves, kayaking in the Sea of Cortez, leaf peeping in Vermont, jetting to the Bahamas, pursuing flying saucers in Roswell, New Mexico, and completing his visits to all 50 states.
Bone was quite impressed with the size of his ancient relatives. Here he rests on dinosaur toes at the Dinosaur National Monument Visitor Center.
2000-02: Bone journeys up the Amazon, returns to Europe, cruises to Belize, Cancun and the Cayman’s, and goes to New Zealand where a misguided customs agent tries to arrest and jail him as animal matter.
Bone, who likes strange things, insisted on having his photo taken with a mudstone concretion in New Zealand.
2003: Bone undertakes a 360-mile backpack trip in celebration of his discovery and Curt’s 60th birthday. They begin at Squaw Valley near Lake Tahoe and end by climbing Mt. Whitney. Various friends join them along the way.
Bone got a little high when he helped Curt celebrate his 60th birthday, which isn’t surprising considering he is a California bone.
2004: Bone visits Hemingway’s grave in Idaho, goes horseback riding with Australians and Bahamians in Montana, and makes his first pilgrimage to Burning Man in Nevada, a very Bone like type of place. He also jets off to Costa Rica.
Bone has a love for anything ancient. Here, he perches on a Mayan sculpture in Costa Rica.
2005-2007: Bone returns to Burning Man twice and revisits Europe twice including special stopovers in Portugal, France, Holland, Germany, and Belgium. He also revisits Mexico.
2008 – 2011: Bone commences another exploration of North America. This time he travels in the van, Quivera, along with Curt, Peggy, and Eeyore the Jackass. His journey takes him over 75,000 miles of American Roads. Along the way, he barely escapes the hangman’s noose in Tombstone, Arizona. In May of 2010 he helps Curt initiate his blog, and rafts 280 miles down the Colorado River with Tom, Curt and friends through the Grand Canyon.
Bone barely escaped the hangman’s noose after being a Bad Bone in Tombstone, Arizona.Bone, wearing his PFD, scouts a major rapid on the Colorado River before rafting though it.
2012-2017: Bone goes into semi-retirement in Southern Oregon. Please note the semi, however. He continues the exploration of the West Coast ranging from Big Sur to Vancouver Island, where he kayaks for a week in search of Killer Whales. He wanders through England and Scotland helping Curt find his roots and spends a week traveling by Canal Boat. Later, he returns to Europe again, traveling through the Mediterranean visiting Turkey, Santorini and other Greek Islands, Dubrovnik, Venice, Rome, Pompeii, Florence, and Barcelona. He returns to Burning Man several times. On one trip, he is married to the lovely Bonetta, who he met while exploring a swamp in Florida. Rumor has it that it was a shotgun wedding. This past year he traveled with Peggy and me on our 10,000 mile trip around North America retracing Curt’s bike route. He made a very special trip with fellow blogger Crystal Truelove to visit with Native Americans of the Cherokee Nation in Oklahoma.
Burning Man is one of Bone’s all-time favorite activities.
Bone and Big Nose Bonetta are married in a temple at Burning Man in 2013. Bone’s kilt was made for him by an 80-plus year old woman from Kansas. Bonetta is wearing a designer wedding dress with very expensive plastic jewelry to match.
Bone got a wee bit jealous when I snuggled up to this mammoth of a bone when Peggy and I were re-visiting by van my 1999 10,000-mile bike trip.
2018: Bone joins Curtis in celebrating Curt’s 75th Birthday by backpacking 750 miles in Oregon and California. Highlights include the Rogue River Trail, Three Sisters Wilderness and the Siskiyou Mountains in Oregon. In California, Curt and Bone more or less follow the Pacific Crest Trail through the Klamath Mountains, Marble Mountains, Trinity Alps, Cascade Mountains and Sierra Nevada Mountains— taking detours whenever the mood strikes, including revisiting where Tom and Curt found him in 1977! Along the way, Bone meets and chats with numerous through-hikers on the Pacific Crest Trail who are hiking from Mexico to Canada. He also spends a lot of time dodging horrendous forest fires. Peggy joins Curt and Bone for three sections of the journey and provides welcome backup for the rest of the journey.
Bone had a privileged position on the front of Curt’s Backpack during the 750 mile journey down the Pacific Crest Trail.Bone met many through-hikers making their way from Mexico to Canada including a hiker whose trail name was Bone! Here we have Bone and Bone.As we arrived at Bone’s home south of Lake Tahoe, he entertained Peggy with tales from his childhood.
2019-2020: He joins Curt for a trip down California’s beautiful Highway 395 among the Eastern Sierras and visits the Alabama Hills where cowboy movies of yore were made with the likes of John Wayne, Hopalong Cassidy, the Lone Ranger and a host of others— voices from the past that have echoed down through time. “Hi-yo Silver away.”
Bone and his traveling companion Eeyore donned covid masks for 2020 RV trip to the Outer Banks of North Carolina to celebrate Peggy’s 70th Birthday.
2022-2026 “Is that a bone in your suitcase? Hand it over.” Worried about being confiscated by the TSA or some similar organization overseas, Bone decides to limit his travel to the US with a 10,000 mile road trip each year. Highlights include 3-month trips where he explores the Pacific Coast, the Southwest, the Northwest, and New England. Taking different routes to get to these locations, he also spends time in the South, Midwest, East and West in general. Along the way, he manages to visit most of the National Parks, travels Route 66, and goes to Burning Man again. He also goes backpacking and kayaking. He now lives in Virginia with Curt and Peggy.
A while back I posted a photo essay on Pompeii that many of you would have seen. This post will include some of those photos but the focus will be on the Roman gods (adopted and adapted from Greek gods) that were a daily part of Pompeian life before Mt. Vesuvius blew its top. Once again, I am traveling back in time and pulling up a post from my archives for my armchair travel series in the time of Covid-19.
I liked this view of the Temple of Jupiter in Pompeii with its stair-step columns. A massive earthquake had destroyed the temple in 62 AD. It was still being rebuilt in 79 AD when Mt. Vesuvius erupted.
It is impossible to visit the ancient cities of the Mediterranean without thinking about the importance of the all-too-human early gods.
Back before they were relegated to the status of myths, they were as alive and real to the people as say Christ might be to today’s faithful Christians. A primary difference was their misbehavior. They became involved in feuds, had affairs, became jealous, drank too much, etc. Other than the fact they were immortal and extremely powerful, they might be your neighbor.
If they liked you, they could be your best buddy. Make you healthy, wealthy and wise. But if they disliked you, watch out! They were like the little girl who had a little curl right in the middle of her forehead. “When she was good, she was very, very good, but when she was bad, she was horrid.” (From a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)
So it isn’t surprising that the ancient folks of the Mediterranean spent a great deal of energy and money trying to stay on the good side of their gods. Some of the world’s greatest art was created in their honor and whole herds of castrated animals were sacrificed and cooked to keep them smiling. Interestingly, the smoke from the cooking meat seemed to satisfy the gods. Mere mortals consumed the flesh. As the old saying goes, “Man is nothing, if not practical.”
The Romans, who lacked Greek creativity, obtained their gods wholesale from Greece, only changing their names to sound more Latin. Zeus with his fiery lightning bolt became Jupiter, his wife/sister Hera, became Juno, and his daughter Athena, who sprang fully armed from his head and gave him a headache, became Minerva. And of course there was a whole pantheon of other gods.
Each of these gods had a role to play. If you wanted to kick someone’s tail, Zeus was your ‘man.’ Juno could help you through a difficult childbirth. If you needed more wisdom, and who among us doesn’t, Minerva was there for you. There was no one stop shopping like today’s church goers enjoy.
The gods did gain more power as they aged, however. They took on the roles, and sometimes personalities, of the earlier gods they replaced. Juno, for example, was responsible for both “loosening a bride’s girdle” and protecting the money of the Roman Empire. In her latter role she was the patron Goddess of the Royal Mint.
Mt. Vesuvius provides the background for this photo of Jupiter’s Temple, which he shared with Juno and Minerva. The arch on the left was built to honor the Roman Emperor Tiberius (14-37 AD) (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)
This view of the right side of Jupiter’s Temple in Pompeii shows the arch of the Roman Emperor Nero, known for fiddling around while Rome burned. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)
A final photo of Jupiter’s Temple, which I liked because of the massive, almost brooding feel, it gave to the columns.
Jupiter, Juno and Minerva were worshipped as a triad in both Pompeii and Rome. Possibly it saved time and money. There was also a temple to Mercury in Pompeii. His earlier persona had been that of the super fast Greek God Hermes who carried messages for the gods and had wings on his feet. He was also the god of getting rich, luck, trickery and thievery. Hmmm. Sometimes a fast get-a-way is critical.
Dark clouds hover above Apollo’s Temple caught in the sunlight. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)
I’ll close today with this fun perspective by Peggy. Apollo seems to reach out and grasp one of the columns in his temple. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)
Another post from my armchair travel series during Covid-19. This time I’ll take you on a window shopping tour of Venice with an emphasis on glassware, including face masks that come with a long nose…
Venice is known for the creative glass masks made there. What is particularly interesting about this one is that it is a replica of what plague doctors wore in the 1600s. At the time, doctors believed that the plague was spread by the bad smell generated by the disease. The nose of the mask was packed with herbs or flowers such as lavender that would counter the smell, and, so the doctors believed, counter the disease. If nothing else, possibly they would scare the plague away!
I promised a window-shopping trip in Venice so window-shopping we will go. Staring in store windows is fun. Like people watching, it falls under the category of vicarious pleasure. And it’s free. Of course the shop owners have other objectives in mind.
Window shopping in Venice is one treat after another. Numerous windows display masks or glass work, I thought this owl caught both.
Venice does a fabulous job with window displays. We saw mouth-watering pastries, chocolate fantasies, clunky shoes, a bejeweled rear end, and an interesting ceramic cow.
I am sure these clunky shoes are stylish even though I don’t get it. I do get that I would hesitate to get in an argument with the woman wearing them.
This 440 euro sculpture of a butt challenged my imagination like the shoes above. I did find the glass beadwork fun, however.
As ads go, this ceramic cow in a Venice shop was quite creative. Got paint?
A Venetian chocolatier created a ski scene in his window. I almost lost Peggy. “Chocolate!” she exclaimed. Of course we had to go in. And left a few hundred calories later.
What impressed me the most about the window displays in Venice were those featuring glassware and masks. Both reach back into the city’s ancient history.
How many places can claim they have been “supplying quality glass products since 1291”? That’s the year that a Venice made of wood required all of its glass makers to move to the island of Murano in the Venice Lagoon. Community leaders feared that the glass making process would burn the city down. Venice quickly became the center of Europe’s trade in beautiful glass objects.
The upside for the glass makers was that they were invited into the highest ranks of Venetian society. The downside was they were threatened with having their hands chopped off or assassination if they moved and took their talents elsewhere.
I suspect the artist who created this sculpture of glass blowers had devilish fun with his work.
I liked this Venice window display because it captured different types of glass work including the elephant and shows off various techniques of coloring glass.
Venetians apparently carried out numerous activities they felt were best done while wearing masks. For example, in 1339 Venice passed a law that forbade inhabitants from visiting convents while wearing masks. One can only wonder. During plague times doctors wore long nose masks they believed protected them from the disease. Today masks are a central part of the Carnival of Venice that ends on Shrove Tuesday (Mardi Gras).
The Venetian masks displayed in shops can be quite beautiful and elaborate. A “plague” mask is on the left.
The masks of Venice can also be a bit on the scary side such as this mask of Medusa. Note the masks on the snake heads. See no evil, hear no evil, smell no evil, speak no evil? (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)
This mask making shop had their creations lined up assembly line style. The eerie see-through look of the masks made me think of ghosts.
I’ll conclude with modern mask featuring a steam punk theme. It made me think of Burning Man.
NEXT POST: Continuing on our armchair journey during Covid-19, it’s off to Pompeii to visit with the gods.
I am continuing to dip back into my archives for armchair travel in the time of Covid-19. This is my third post in a series of five on Venice where Peggy and I travelled in 2013.
Remember the old Frank Sinatra hit song “Love and Marriage Go Together Like a Horse and Carriage.” Venice’s canals and gondolas are like that. It is hard to imagine one without the other. Also, it is hard to imagine gondolas without tourists. I suspect that most of them are docked in this time of Covid-19. In fact, satellite photos show the canals to be surprisingly clean. Even jellyfish have returned to take advantage of the tourist free waters! While Venetians may miss the tourist dollars, they, too, are appreciating their tourist free city. The government is searching for ways to reduce the dependence on tourist dollars— and the number of tourists. Gondolas aren’t about to go away, but there may be far fewer of them in the future.
I shot this photo from the Rialto Bridge looking down on the Grand Canal.
It is impossible to think of Venice without thinking of canals and romantic gondolas with singing gondoliers. Or possibly your vision of Venice is of fast boats with roaring engines and good guys/bad guys chasing each other with guns blazing as depicted in any number of movies.
A gondolier works his boat on cold, rough waters in the Grand Canal as his passengers enjoy the ride, bundled up in warm clothes.
We were in off-season, however. Only a few hardy tourists braved the cold for gondola rides and no movies were being made. The canals had reverted to their primary role as transportation corridors, a role which they have played for a thousand years.
This is a sight you wouldn’t see during the summer when these gondolas would be filled with tourists. I thought of the gathered gondolas as a gondola parking lot. You may note that they are all black. You can thank a 17th Century Doge for that. He mandated that they all be painted the same color.
Luxury accommodations gondola style. Expect to pay big bucks/euros for a ride in this one.
Peggy took this photo of parked gondolas looking from Venice proper across at the island of La Giudecca. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson)
We chose to walk on the carless streets that parallel the canals and cross over them on bridges that have as much personality of the canals and provide intriguing glimpses of life along the canals. The highlight of our journey was the famous Rialto Bridge and the Grand Canal but the smaller canals, known as rivers, provided more intimate views.
This photo shows the famed Rialto Bridge that served for centuries as the only bridge across the Grand Canal, which snakes its way through Venice as the major transportation corridor.
The more recent Accademia Bridge across the Grand Canal has a totally different look and construction. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)
I took this photo from the other side of the Accademia Bridge to capture the parked gondolas and the boat taxi that is crossing under the bridge.
Smaller canals, known as rivers in Venice, provide a more intimate view of life in the city. The buildings here were built by wealthy Venetians when Venice was a major world power controlling trade between the East and the West. Houses then, as now, were a symbol of wealth and power.
Peggy captured this interesting entrance way. I assume it would have been taller in the early years before sinking and global warming.
Flower/plant boxes are found throughout the city. I liked how these were next to the canal.
I’ll conclude with this reflection shot. Think of this as how Venice might look with far fewer tourists. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)
Peggy and I return to Venice today as part of our Armchair Travel in the Time of Covid-19 series. Among other things we walk on water, check out a winged lion, and learn about the Saint who was shipped to Venice in a pork barrel. Again, this is adapted from earlier posts I did when visiting the Mediterranean in 2013.
St. Mark’s Basilica is a beautiful church that dominates St. Mark’s Square in Venice.
Being eager to begin our exploration of Venice we picked up a water taxi from the cruise port. It retraced our earlier route from a sea-level perspective and deposited us near a large statue of Victor Emmanuel. He served as the first king of Italy when the various Italian city-states were united in the mid 1800s.
I took this photo of King Emmanuel charging into battle with his sword raised and horse’s tail flying.
Another photo of Emmanuel’s imposing horse on the waterfront monument in Venice.
In addition to an imposing horse and Victor, the statue features Venice, represented as a woman, and St. Mark, represented as a winged lion, book-ending the monument. On one end, the lion bites through the chains of Austrian oppression while Venice looks on in a tattered dress; on the other end he roars in victory and Venice is clothed in an expensive dress.
While St. Mark the lion chews through the chains of Austrian oppression,Venice looks depressed and disheveled in this photo of the Victor Emmanuel statue in Venice. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)
St. Mark, with his representational lion, is the protector of Venice. The lion can be found almost everywhere. Mark— of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John— supposedly came through the region when it was a swamp and gave his blessing. This justified two Venetian merchants turning into grave robbers and stealing the body from Alexandria in 828 AD. They slipped Mark into a pork barrel for transport. Muslims consider pork unclean so the barrel was unlikely to be checked by the local officials.
Mark made it safely to Venice in his smelly container, was presented to the Doge of Venice, and was subsequently buried under what would become St. Mark’s Basilica located on St. Mark’s Square, which was our objective for the day.
Along the way we would pass by the Bridge of Sighs and the Doge’s Palace. We would also walk on water. Actually we walked on tables that are placed in the square to help people avoid the Adriatic Sea, which is a regular visitor. Between Venice sinking some nine inches per century, high tides, and global warming, floods have become a serious problem for the city.
Peggy, Kathi Saage and Frances Dallen pose in front of the Bridge of Sighs. They aren’t sighing but they are cold. A gondolier lurks in the background. I suspect he was cold as well.
The Bridge of Sighs was so named because prisoners, condemned in the Doge’s Palace, would have their last look at freedom as they crossed the bridge from the Palace to the prison. Supposedly they sighed. It took a poet, Lord Byron, to give the bridge its name.
The Doge’s Palace once served as the center of government for Venice and was home of the Doge, the most powerful man in Venice at the time and therefore one of the most powerful men in the western world. Today the palace is a museum filled with magnificent art. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)
A rather furry Neptune, symbol of Venice’s sea power, welcomes visitors to the Doge’s Palace.
A view of the inner courtyard of the Doge’s Palace in Venice.
St. Mark’s Basilica, located next to the Doge’s Palace is Byzantine in appearance. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson)
An evening view of the colorful St. Mark’s Basilica in Venice. The bronze horses on the upper right were stolen from Constantinople during the Fourth Crusade when Venice was supposed to be helping Constantinople, not plundering it. But then, if your church is built on the stolen bones of a Saint, why not? (grin)
St. Mark’s Basilica and street lamps by night.
The Campanile is a prominent St. Mark’s Square and Venice landmark. In 1902 it came tumbling down and had to be replaced.
This clock tower is another well-known landmark in St. Mark’s Square. Note the winged lion and the digital clock with Roman Numerals. The bronze bell ringers on top and the astrological clock at the bottom are also impressive.
As I mentioned, Venice is subject to frequent floods. Global warming has added to this problem. This shot, taken just below the Clock Tower in St. Mark’s Square, shows people using the table walkways and walking over the water.
I’ll close with this flood photo I took in St. Mark’s Square that reflects both lamp posts and walls located in the Square.
FRIDAY’S POST: We will visit the famed canals of Venice.
As I pulled this post up from my archives for today’s post, I couldn’t help but wonder, ironically, if the dramatic drop in 22.5 million tons of tourists (assuming 30 million tourist times 150 pounds) visiting Venice because of the pandemic will slow the city’s date with destiny as it sinks into the sea at the rate of nine inches per century. Peggy and I arrived by cruise ship, a mode of travel I had religiously avoided for most of my life. But the opportunity to visit many locations in the Mediterranean at one time was a temptation I couldn’t resist.
Perched on the top deck of the Crown Princess, it was easy to see that Venice is an island, a relatively small island. Built on a marsh, it is sinking into the sea at about 9 inches per century. Vivaldi, BTW, once offered music lessons at the Hotel Metropole on the right.
We approached Venice by sea, as mariners have for the past thousand years. I was perched on the top deck of the Crown Princess looking down on the fabled island city. Icy winds turned my traveler’s curiosity into a minor act of courage. A warm bar beckoned. But I was motivated. There were photos to be taken and adventures to plan. My next five blogs will be devoted to the city. Today’s blog is on my crow’s nest view. I will then write about visiting the area around St. Mark’s Square, admiring the city’s famed canals, getting “lost” among Venice’s confusing streets, and going window shopping.
Venice is justly famed for its canals… and for the bridges over the canals. Each seems to have a different personality.
Altogether, there are some 25 miles of canals. Each one invites exploration. The building just visible on the right is the city’s naval museum. Venice was once one of the world’s greatest sea powers. The lack of crowds reflects that tourist season was drawing to a close as winter approached.
The presence of gondolas suggested we were getting near the center of Venice’s greatest tourist attraction…
And we arrived. The building on the right is the Doge’s Palace. Next to it is the beginning of St. Mark’s Square… the center of Venice.
Looking down on St. Mark’s Square. The Campanile is on the left reaching toward the sky and St. Mark’s Basilica is on the right, behind the Doge’s Palace. Snow capped mountains are in the distance. Walkways kept people’s feet dry as water covered the square.
I found this building, the Emporio Dei Sali, interesting. Once it housed salt. Now it is home to one of Venice’s best rowing clubs.
This photo looks back toward the Campanile. The opening on the right is the beginning of the Grand Canal. The church with the onion dome is La Salute, which was built as an offering of thanks at the end of the plague of 1630 when one-third of the City’s population died.
A final view from my crow’s nest perspective. The hotel Pensione Calcina was once home to limestone sellers.
NEXT BLOG: The many attractions of St. Mark’s Square (which we admire from walkways as it floods).
Fake has taken on an interesting connotation today that has little to do with its original meaning. When Peggy and I visited Turkey in 2013 it was a different era, however. We were amused when a store was offering genuine fake watches at a price that matched. I almost bought one because of the honesty, which I’m sure was the idea. On Wednesday, we visited the impressive ruins of Ephesus. Today I will take you to Kusadasi, the land of expensive rugs and real fakes as I continue to dig into my archived blogs for armchair travel in the time of Covid-19.
Dozens of Turkish rugs were scattered on the floor in Kusadasi, Turkey, thrown out in a frenzy of encouraging us to buy.
The rugs were flying, quite literally, and landing on the floor in front of us. Twenty minutes earlier they had been neatly rolled up at the back of the room. Now five Turkish rug salesmen were expertly flipping them out onto the floor, a new one every ten seconds. We had been wined; we had been dined; we had been educated. Now the final push was on, the push to get us alone in a room where more multi-thousand dollar rugs would be thrown at us in hopes we would eagerly pull out our credit card with the highest limit.
Part of the show was an interesting demonstration in the craft of carpet weaving. Fine rugs can take over a year to complete.
Peggy was ready. The falling rugs had hypnotized her. Her eyes were glazing over and she was levitating out of her seat as a handsome dark-eyed Turk wooed her with fine words. The last time I had seen that look we had ended up with a timeshare in Mexico. This time I was fortified, however. When the salesmen was passing out drinks to soften us up, I was one of two from our tour group of 30 who ordered arak or raki, the unsweetened Middle-Eastern anise drink with the smell of turpentine and the kick of a mule.
I admit the rugs were beautiful works of art, but I was arak strong. Our cabin in the woods of Southern Oregon did not need a Turkish carpet. “I’m sorry,” Peggy explained to her new best friend. “My husband doesn’t want a rug.” I was truly the bad guy in this scenario and the salesman gave me the look to prove it before he sidled off to corner another victim… oops, I mean client.
Buying a rug in Kusadasi is reputedly the quintessential Turkish experience and a whole industry is set up to make sure you do. The cruise industry is a major partner in this endeavor. Lectures on bargaining and quality are given on board the ship before arrival. Lists are provided of safe, preferred shops (i.e. those that share their profit with the ship). Our tour guide hurried us through ancient Ephesus sergeant-like to make sure we would make it to the shop on time. Tours are tightly scheduled. Each tourist needs the opportunity to buy a carpet. Everyone profits. For the cruise ship this can mean a 50-60 percent kickback.
I hurried Peggy out with the promise of lunch and the opportunity to buy presents for the grandkids. Her brother John and his wife Frances stayed to buy a carpet, however, and ended up with two. Later we celebrated with them in their rambling Texas home as they rolled their children’s inheritance out on the floor.
Dozens of small shops were located in a modern Turkish bazaar near the port. It was touristy but fun. Since we were one of the last ships of the season, Peggy found numerous bargains to make up for carpet we didn’t buy.
Truth in advertising. (grin)
As we wandered through the shops of Kusadasi, I was attracted by the wealth of colors.
This plate closeup is another example of the rich colors, intricate patterns, and fine craftsmanship found in the shops of Kusadasi.
Frances eagerly unrolls John’s and her new silk carpet in their Texas home.
A closer look at the family heirloom. It really is beautiful and John assures me they bargained for a good price.
MONDAY’S POST: We are off to Venice where we walk on water.
I am adding to my armchair travel series today as Peggy and I continue to shelter at home hiding out from Covid-19. For today’s post I went traveling back in time through my blog archives and landed in the ancient Graeco-Roman of Ephesus, Turkey. It is located across the Aegean Sea from Athens. Peggy and I traveled there in 2013 along with her brother John Dallen, his wife Frances, and their/our friends Lee and Kathy Saage.
The Greek Goddess Nike, with wings all aflutter, hands over the wreath of Victory to Rome, which is appropriate since Rome took over Greek Ephesus and turned it into the second largest city in the Roman Empire. Note the muscular arms. Not even iron-pumping Arnold Schwarzenegger would mess with this woman.
Artemis, The Greek Goddess of the hunt, chastity, virginity and fertility was big in Ephesus. (Somehow, being the Goddess of chastity and virginity— while also being the Goddess of Fertility— doesn’t compute.) Her temple, built in the sixth century BC, was considered one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. Each May, the local Greeks would honor her with a Festival of Roses, which brings Mother’s Day to mind. As part of the festival they would sacrifice a number of bulls to encourage fertility. Modern time Mother’s Day has dropped this part of the ceremony.
Artemis is looking rather weird, to say the least. She looks like she is offering a hug. If so, I pass.
Artemis is only a part of the Ephesus’ family of powerful women. Before the Greek Goddess Artemis became top female in the area, the Hittite mother-goddess Kubaba and the Anatolian goddess Cybele had reigned supreme. Amazons, the large warrior women who thought of men mainly as a source for making baby girls, were also known to frequent the region.
Following Artemis, the Virgin Mary was reputed to have spent her last days in Ephesus. A German mystic dreamed it and there is some historical support. Various modern Catholic Popes have backed up the supposition and Pope John Paul II declared the site where she supposedly died to be a shrine for Christian pilgrimages. Muslims, who call her Mother Mary, also make pilgrimages to the area. It stands on a hill above Ephesus.
Ephesus is located on the western coast of modern-day Turkey. We took a tour bus out to the site with a very talkative tour guide who shared with us that Santa Claus originated in Turkey, as well as a number of facts about Ephesus. The city had been an important part of Ionian Greece and included such luminaries as the Greek philosopher Heraclitus. In case you’ve forgotten your philosophers, Heraclitus, whose nickname was the Obscure, claimed that only change is permanent. “You never step in the same river twice,” he said.
This was certainly true of the Meander River. Ephesus was located on its banks and the curvy waterway kept moving to new locations, forcing Ephesus to move. And yes, the Meander River happens to be where our word meander comes from. I am rather fond of meandering.
It was the Romans who brought Ephesus to its height around 100 AD with a population of over 250,000, making Ephesus the second largest city in the Roman Empire. Most of the ruins featured below came from that period.
The iconic Ionic Greek column with its simple scroll like top is said to have originated in Ephesus.
This handsome, regal-looking Ephesus cat conveniently posed for me in front of another Ionic column.
Greek and Roman columns, BTW, did not come in one long section. They came in chunks like this column and were then put together.
The most impressive use of columns among the existing ruins of Ephesus is in the beautiful Library of Celsus, which happened to be the third largest library in the ancient world and contained over 12,000 books. People provide perspective on size.
I took this photo while standing in front of the Library of Celsus and shooting upward. The column on the left is 40 feet tall.
The Library of Celsus used ‘leafy’ Corinthian columns shown here as opposed to the Ionic columns shown above.
Peggy, another powerful woman, poses on a pedestal inside the Library of Celsus that may have once accommodated the Greek goddess Athena. I didn’t tell Peggy she was dancing on the grave of Celsus.
Unless you were wealthy in Ephesus, you used the common toilets shown here where you could line up with your buddies and discuss the day’s news while taking care of business. The men’s toilet house could accommodate up to 40 people at once. Water flowed constantly under the toilets to remove wastes and deposit them in the Meander River.
Speaking of plumbing, these clay pipes ran underneath the city of Ephesus and provided a sophisticated means of supplying water as well as removing wastes.
This is Hadrian’s Temple. Hadrian (76-138 AD), one of the greatest of Roman emperors, was known for his building projects, the most famous being Hadrian’s Wall in England. Hadrian loved everything Greek— including the young man, Antinous. The woman shown on the second arch was likely Medusa, whose hair was made of writhing snakes and whose mere glance could turn a man to stone. How much more powerful can you get? (Photo by Peggy Mekemson)
Sailors arrived in Ephesus from all over the Mediterranean and not many could read or write. Our guide told us this was a visual aid for finding the local brothel. Walk this way.
The Great Theater of Ephesus provided seating for 25,000 people. Acoustics are excellent. Modern performers have included Sting and Diana Ross. Ancient performers included St. Paul, who apparently caused a riot.
It’s showtime! Peggy and I, John and Francis Dallen and Lee Saage are ready. Bring on the gladiators. (Photo by Kathy Saage.)
NEXT BLOG: Since we are in Turkey, my next post will explore the city of Kusadasi, where Peggy lusts after a Turkish rug and her brother buys two.
Today, I am continuing to dig back into my Word Press archives by looking at gargoyles.I have a weakness for them. While they are said to scare away evil spirits, they attract me. What can I say? As for the various body parts of saints, you will find them scattered in Catholic churches throughout Europe. One can only wonder… Anyway, Gargoyles and a sacred finger are the subject of today’s armchair travel as I wrap up my posts on Dubrovnik.
I found this marvelous gargoyle about a foot off the Stradun connected to the Franciscan Monastery in Dubrovnik, Croatia. Check out the great mustache!
Weird amuses me— and few things are more weird than a gargoyle. During the middle ages, no decent cathedral would be caught without them. In addition to piping water away from the building, they served as reminders to the faithful that evil lurked in the world, an evil that could only be overcome by attending church and donating money. Their cousins, grotesques, were also found on churches. Equally ugly and portentous, they didn’t carry water.
Whenever I get near a gargoyle or grotesque, I can’t help myself; I have to take its photo. Fortunately, Peggy feels the same way.
Peggy caught this Dubrovnik gargoyle. Possibly it represents one of the winds.
I took this closeup of the Dubrovnik gargoyle Peggy photographed above. Note the water dribbling down its chin. I don’t know about you, but I always find it interesting to try different perspectives when I am photographing something.
We found examples of grotesques in the cloister of the Franciscan Monastery of Dubrovnik on top of columns. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson)
Dragons were a popular subject for both gargoyles and grotesques. What could be more scary. We found this specimen with his fine set of choppers in the Franciscan Monastery.
I have also found that fountains in Europe often host strange-looking beings. While the wealthy in pre-modern times might have water piped into their homes, the common folks obtained their water from community fountains. Dubrovnik built an aqueduct system in the mid 1400s to bring water to the city and then located two public fountains on the Stradun: big Onofrio’s Fountain located near the Pile Gate and little Onofrio’s Fountain found next to the clock tower in Lutz Square.
The top of little Onofrio’s Fountain with its ferocious looking fish. The fountain is located near the clock tower in Dubrovnik, Croatia. If I caught something like this, I’d be cutting my line!
Another view of little Onofrio’s Fountain. The oranges, BTW, were part of Dubrovnik’s Christmas decorations.
Big Onofrio’s Fountain located near the Pile Gate had 16 sides and each side featured a different mask with a spout coming out of its mouth. This was a cow mask. Or maybe it was a bull.
Something I find even stranger than gargoyles, grotesques, or fountain inhabitants are relics— bits and pieces of saints or other holy items kept around in reliquaries as items of worship. Pieces of the Cross are a common example. I once read that selling pieces of the cross was a thriving business during the Middle Ages. Scam comes to mind. The Dubrovnik Cathedral has a particularly impressive set of relics including a requisite piece of the Cross, Baby Jesus’ swaddling clothes, and various body parts of St. Blaise.
All of these items are reputedly capable of performing miracles and it is something of a miracle they exist. How they were obtained is usually rooted in the murky past. Pieces of the swaddling clothes were provided to women having difficult births. No matter how many pieces were cut out of the cloth, so it is said, the cloth returned to its original form.
I came across St. Luke’s finger in the small museum found in the Franciscan Monastery in Dubrovnik. The finger is encased in a gold reliquary. I know people take these items seriously and believe they have miraculous powers, but I find them on the far side of strange. I would almost bet that it cost the monastery an arm and a leg to get the finger.
NEXT POST: You want gargoyles? Wait until you see the white oak trees on our property and in the national forest behind us. These trees would fit right into “Lord of the Rings” or most other fantasies— or horror movies. My theory is that they will scare the heck out of the coronavirus if it comes around. Remember how the gargoyles were supposed to scare the evil spirits away from medieval cathedrals in Europe? I bet that they were recruited to frighten the plague as well! I know better, but it is fun to contemplate. And I find the trees interesting and amusing as opposed to scary. (At least during the day.)
Wandering through Time and Place 